


Distant Memory

by Daidairo



Series: Dog Groomer [2]
Category: Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: AU, Angst, F/M, Romance, a lot of drama, but with a happy ending finally ;D, silvally and rockruff and primarina in dog form
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23281567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daidairo/pseuds/Daidairo
Summary: Sequel to 'Maybe'.He's the ex-customer with a big, fluffy English sheepdog. She's the dog groomer who had forgotten her feelings for him.Or thought she had.
Relationships: Gladio | Gladion/Moon
Series: Dog Groomer [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1674232
Comments: 22
Kudos: 21





	Distant Memory

**Author's Note:**

> For Gladmoon Day 2: Haina Desert - Forgotten
> 
> A few people have asked me for a continuation to this AU so... Nearly a year later, here it is at last! Many thanks to my beta Frozenleaf, who is a specialist of angst and drama, and a total godsend for helping to catch all the places where I reverted to my habit of past tense 8'D

One year later, he had become nothing more than a distant memory.

It hurt at first. For a few weeks, Moon had cried herself to sleep nearly every night. Dreamed of his pale blond hair, his emerald green eyes, his casual smirks whenever he made one of his rare jokes. Then his anguished face, inches above hers, his eyes filled with turmoil, and the kisses that said they could never be. Woke up in the morning and wept again.

But slowly, she had begun to heal. Months passed. Gone were the twinges that pricked her heart whenever she saw any Old English sheepdog. Gone, too, was the urge to read and reread his messages on her phone.

She had stopped missing him, stopped regretting his absence from her life.

She began to laugh again, and to enjoy her work with the dogs and cats. The nightmares stopped. Winter went by, and her garden was growing anew. She started to frequent the Sunny Go Round again. She even went out on a couple of dates. Though none of them had worked out, they all parted on friendly terms.

Luna Grooming Parlour was doing well, Rocky was happy, her plants were flourishing, the sun was shining, and... Life felt good.

So Moon was confident that she had recovered and moved on from her broken heart.

Until a year later, when she's standing at the entrance to the dog park, with Rocky's leash in one hand and Silvally pawing at her legs, barking excitedly.

She recognises him immediately from the distinctive patches of grey and brown layered over white fur, as well as his pale, almost silver blue eyes. Rocky, too, acknowledges his old friend, yapping enthusiastically at her feet.

Behind her, Lana, her co-worker, laughs at the sight. Her Pembroke corgi, Prima, is dancing impatiently around her heels, straining to enter the park.

"This big boy really seems to like you," Lana comments. "Are you carrying treats in your bag?"

Of course, Lana wouldn't know him. She joined the parlour only two months ago.

Her mind is refusing to think, but automatically, Moon bends slightly to stroke the excited dog. "No, I think he's just happy to see..."

"...Hey."

She looks up, and Gladion is standing there.

_Hey._

That's what he says to her. After a whole year.

He looks almost exactly like she remembers. Tall. Pale blond hair, a little longer than before, falling carelessly over one eye. Emerald green eyes, sharp and cold. The same slightly oversized black hoodie he used to wear (when he didn't come straight from the office in a suit), over the same slightly torn jeans.

Moon stares at him, still not thinking. Her mind is drawing a complete blank, which makes sense, considering she doesn't have any lingering feelings for him.

Except...

He looks _really_ good.

Lana is watching curiously, her gaze shifting from one to the other. "Friend of yours?" she asks over the cacophony of barks.

Moon doesn't speak, because she doesn't know how to reply.

What _were_ they?

As usual, Gladion's face is carefully neutral, showing no sign of emotion. After a slight hesitation, he answers, "We're not friends."

And Moon smiles politely. "I was grooming his dog. That's all."

* * *

Once Lana takes out the frisbees she and Moon had packed, the dogs have no eyes for anything else. They frisk around her, tongues hanging out, vying with each other for the chance to grab either (or both) frisbees first.

Moon and Gladion sit down at an empty bench under the shade of an oak tree, in the quietest corner of the dog park. A light breeze is blowing by, rustling the grass and dead leaves at their feet. Despite their presence, it remains quiet, almost awkwardly so.

After all, what can they say? The last time they met, they had basically exchanged an unspoken promise to never see each other again.

Moon's eyes flick to him for an instant. He is staring straight ahead, watching the dogs play. But she sees his fists on his lap, tightly clenched.

She isn't sad. She just doesn't know what to say.

"Is your sister doing well?" she blurts. That's the only cordial thing to do, really. Ask about family.

Gladion looks startled. "Lillie? Yeah. She's fine."

He doesn't offer anything else. Even now, there are times where he really sucks at carrying a conversation. The normal, friendly thing to do would have been to say one or two lines about Lillie, and ask about Moon's family.

Then again, they aren't exactly friends anymore.

For the third time in the last twenty minutes, Silvally suddenly runs to them. Ignoring his owner, he jumps straight up at Moon, licking her face determinedly.

Moon laughs at the onslaught, rubbing the thick fur around Silvally's face and neck.

"Easy, buddy!" she gasps. "I know it's been a while but... stooop! ... You'll lick my face off if you keep this up!"

Silvally takes no notice of her ominous warning, continuing to pepper her face with licks, squirming happily beneath her hands.

"He does that whenever I'm away for a long time. I think he's trying to assure himself that you're really here," Gladion says.

Moon glances at him, then almost wishes she hadn't when she sees gentle eyes, and the hint of a smile at the corners of his lips.

"He looks well!" she says abruptly. Smiling, she scratches the sheepdog behind his ears, and he closes his eyes blissfully. "As beautiful as always!"

"He is," Gladion agrees.

It is easy to keep the conversation going once Silvally is in the picture. Moon pulls back to look at him admiringly. His coat is neat and mat-free, sleek and shiny. His eyes are clear and bright. His gums are pink and firm, his teeth clean and white.

"Your new groomer is doing a great job!" she says.

"Thank you."

The meaning of the two words takes a few seconds to sink in.

"You groom him yourself now?" Moon asks, with some surprise. After all, the reason he first came to the parlour was because he was too busy with work to handle grooming Silvally regularly.

"Yeah," Gladion replies. He looks down at the ground. "We never got another groomer."

It is not her place to ask why.

Silvally runs back to the frisbee party again. Around the park, four or five other dogs are playing with their owners. Two mongrels, one terrier, one pomeranian, and one poodle. The afternoon sun is shining warmly down, and a low hum of chattering voices, sprinkled with barks and yaps, floats in the air.

"How is your garden?" Gladion asks suddenly.

Moon jumps at the unexpected question, then relaxes. Herbs are very safe.

"Doing fine! I have a new mint bed. Parsley's under control, but the chamomile's still trying to take over the world," she replies.

"Have you given up on the white sage?"

_He still remembers that she had difficulty growing it._

"Au contraire, Mr Skeptical!" Moon says dramatically. She takes out her phone and opens up her gardening gallery, swiping until she finds the photo of her burgeoning white sage plants.

"I use it in my baking sometimes," she says triumphantly, dangling the phone in front of him.

Gladion smirks. Her pulse had ceased to race at the mental image of his smirks months ago, but annoyingly, the real thing still seems to have the same old effect on her.

It's his fault for being so good-looking, she thinks crossly.

"Congrats," he says. "Though I'm not sure what use it'll be. It doesn't even taste good."

"I don't take seasoning advice from someone who confused marjoram with oregano," Moon says loftily.

Gladion scowls. "They look almost identical," he says defensively.

Moon grins. "That's why you're supposed to sniff it. The... scent-sible way to discern, you know?"

The pun slips out before she thinks better of it. She receives an eye roll and a huff of exasperated laughter.

"I see you haven't changed," he says. "Still laughing at your own bad jokes."

I _have_ changed, Moon wants to say. The warm spring of nostalgia flows away as quickly as it bubbled up, and she looks away.

"That's me. Always the funny girl," she mumbles.

With a pattering of feet, Silvally races up to her. This time, however, he is holding the plastic frisbee in his jaws. Moon reaches out her hand to take it from him, but he dodges, running around in a wide circle before returning to leap at her face.

The expected face smash doesn't happen. Instead, Moon hears the sound of familiar laughter. When she opens her eyes, she sees Gladion with one arm around Silvally, holding him down, while his other hand tries to pull the frisbee away.

She stares at his sparkling eyes, warm and soft, his wide smile, his hands firm but gentle as he rolls Silvally onto his back. The sound of his baritone voice fills her ears, and...

All of a sudden, everything comes flooding back. The way she loved watching him play with Silvally. How he joked with her in a deadpan way, occasionally chuckling at her. Him scowling when she teased him. Sometimes teasing her back. The scent of him when he stood a little too close to her sometimes (laundry detergent and mint soap, and Silvally).

The feel of his arms when he embraced her, and the taste of his lips upon hers.

So much for a distant memory.

Gladion tosses the frisbee. It spins swiftly and smoothly through the air in a beautiful curve, and Silvally lunges after it. Rocky manages to catch it first, and they tumble into a furry heap at Lana's feet.

He turns to sit back down beside her. Moon quickly fixes her eyes on her phone screen. Trying to ignore the erratic, aggressive beating of her heart, she swipes blindly through more photos.

She can't let him know.

"Remember the cuttings you gave me?" Moon says with a grin, holding out her phone. "The French sorrel from your mother's garden. They've all self-seeded."

Gladion stares at her screen. Moon notices at once when he tenses, his brows constricting slightly and his mouth tightening.

She looks at her phone, confused, until she sees the gladiolus lilies planted behind the sorrel.

Her finger swipes the photo away, to an unremarkable shot of her mint bed, and she stuffs her phone back into her pocket. Her face is heating up, and her heart is thumping so hard that he can probably hear it.

He doesn't owe her anything. He shouldn't be suffering guilt because of her wayward feelings. But in the stiff, closed expression on his face, she reads the truth.

She hates herself for finding a tiny thread of pleasure in that, in the idea that he is in pain, because it means that he cared at least a little for her...

But she didn't want him to hurt. She never wants him to hurt, and she would do anything to protect him from hurt. Even if it means that she has to swallow everything, to go through the rest of her life drowning under the weight of emotions she will never be able to suppress.

Moon opens her mouth to apologise, but Gladion speaks first.

"Platinum and I broke off our engagement."

He's not looking at her.

All of a sudden, she can't stop looking at him.

"She started dating this guy called Dia," Gladion continues, still not looking at her. "We talked, and... We figured. That the engagement isn't something either of us wanted. So we called it off."

Why is he telling her that? Can it be... No, no, it's not possible.

She cannot hope.

"Silvally was pining hard for you," Gladion says. "He'd gotten so used to having you around. He liked spending time with you. And then you weren't there, and he was sulking. He didn't know how much he cared for you until you weren't there."

At last, he turns to look at her. His eyes soft, intense, and full of apprehension. He's not talking about Silvally anymore, he's...

She can't breathe. The pounding of her heart is growing louder, echoing in her ears.

"He... We've... missed you," he says.

The dam gates open fully at last. She's floating, and she can breathe, and the ringing in her ears has ceased, and she barely knows what to do with everything he just said. But her heart is suddenly filled to the brim with an emotion she can hardly name, at the most beautiful words she had ever heard.

"Are you..."

"You don't have to, if you don't want to," Gladion interrupts, rising to his feet, his face slightly harried. "I mean, you're not... You can walk away. You don't..."

He trails away, uncertain.

Moon smiles. She climbs to her feet as well. "Are you asking me to be Silvally's groomer again?" she asks softly.

One step closer.

Gladion swallows, his gaze fixed on hers. "I'm asking you to be more than that."

Another step closer.

The tips of their shoes meet, and Moon tilts her head upwards. Her fingers are light upon his face, cradling his cheeks. His hands are hesitant at first, as if worried she would crumble away. But slowly, he pulls her to him, brushing his mouth over hers, until her lips part and she's gasping. He kisses her hungrily, his tongue sliding deeper with each pass, his arms crushing her to him.

Her answer to his question is written in the way she presses against him, in the way she moans into his mouth. He joins her, signing his declaration to her with every thrust of his tongue against hers.

Every inch of her remembers the last time they kissed. But this time, he's not going to walk away from her. He's right there with her, and everything feels so much sweeter, so much better than before. She kisses him again and again. One last time... then once more. They have a whole year of lost time to make up for, after all.

"Oh my god, you guys, there are _kids_ here!"

At the sound of Lana's disgusted voice, Moon can't help but burst into giggles against Gladion's mouth. She pulls back, mildly embarrassed.

Gladion is still holding her, looking ridiculously shy as well (an expression that she finds quite adorable on him). But he's smiling, the biggest, happiest smile she has ever seen from him, his eyes warm and affectionate.

Moon smiles back dreamily.

Beside them, Lana heaves a sigh. She has Rocky and Prima back on their leashes, and the frisbees safely packed. Silvally is nosing at Gladion's legs.

"Sorry to interrupt you two, but it's about time Moon and I headed back. I gotta feed Prima and give her her medication," Lana is saying.

Reluctantly, Moon steps away from Gladion, accepting Rocky's leash and picking up her bag from the bench. Gladion bends down, digging Silvally's leash out of his pocket and clipping it on. Silvally barks, licking his fingers, and he ruffles the sheepdog's ears.

Standing up, he looks over at Moon, his emerald eyes still achingly soft.

"Can I... see you again?" he asks. "I mean... I'm. Asking you. On a date. Next week?"

Ignoring the snort from Lana and the muttered "After _that?_ ", Moon grins, her heart threatening to explode with joy.

"Only if you bring Silvally."


End file.
